The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 2/The Usurpation
THE USURPATION.
Thou 'adst to my soul no title or pretence;I was mine own, and free,Till I had given myself to thee;But thou hast kept me slave and prisoner since.Well, since so insolent thou 'rt grown,Fond tyrant! I'll depose thee from thy throne;Such outrages must not admitted beIn an elective monarchy.
Part of my heart by gift did to thee fall;My country, kindred, and my bestAcquaintance, were to share the rest;But thou, their covetous neighbour, drav'st out all: Nay more; thou mak'st me worship thee,And wouldst the rule of my religion be:Did ever tyrant claim such power as you,To be both emperor and pope too?
The public miseries, and my private fate,Deserve some tears; but greedy thou(Insatiate maid!) wilt not allowThat I one drop from thee should alienate;Nor wilt thou grant my sins a part,Though the sole cause of most of them thou art;Counting my tears thy tribute and thy due,Since first mine eyes I gave to you.
Thou all my joys and all my hopes dost claim;Thou ragest like a fire in me,Converting all things into thee;Nought can resist, or not increase the flame:Nay, every grief and every fearThou dost devour, unless thy stamp it bear:Thy presence, like the crowned basilisk's breath,All other serpents puts to death.
As men in hell are from diseases free,So from all other ills am I;Free from their known formality:But all pains eminently lie in thee!Alas, alas! I hope in vainMy conquer'd soul from out thine hands to gain;Since all the natives there thou 'ast overthrown,And planted garrisons of thine own.